


Swank

by Xero_Sky



Series: The PPDC Grand World Tour [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anal, Annoyed Herc, Chuck Lives, M/M, PWP, Post-Pitfall, Slash, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xero_Sky/pseuds/Xero_Sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's crazy 'bout a sharp-dressed man.</p><p>Now with a sequel:  "Unfair"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swank

He hasn’t seen Chuck Hansen in three months. 

Three _months_. 

Once upon a time, every jaeger pilot did PR work.  The Becket boys had certainly done their fair share, smiling for cameras and at reporters, and there had been more photo shoots than Raleigh could remember.  Yancy had once shown up on the cover of a sports fishermen magazine, squinting in the sunlight at the camera.  He’d hated seafood, the concept and practice of fishing, and had had no idea what they were taking his picture for.  Raleigh himself had been photographed at a formal event standing about six millimeters closer to a Thai royal cousin than was considered appropriate, and he’d endured weeks of press gossip about whether they were a couple.

So he’s familiar with press receptions, and he knows what he’s expected to do and how to do it.  He’s in an expensive suit instead of a dress uniform this time; so many nations had awarded the remaining jaeger pilots medals and ribbons that they can’t wear them all, so they’ve opted to wear none.  Still, he knows how this goes.

It’s just that he can’t seem to give a shit this time. 

This particularly monkey show is in Korea, and it’s important.  Between the kaiju and the collapse of North Korea, the south is having a hard time keeping its people fed, much less supporting the PPDC now that the Breach is closed.  And that’s the problem: the Breach is closed, probably for good, but there’s no guarantee of how much damage Gipsy’s detonation had caused, and no guarantee that more Breaches aren’t in their future.  The PPDC was still a going concern, rebuilding itself just as it was building new jaegers, and it was pushing its stars out on the road to shake hands and take pictures and “suck dick”, as one Hercules Hansen, Official Australian War Hero and Marshall, had summed it up after 18 hours in flight and several beers. 

It’s not that Raleigh disagrees with the whole concept.  He’s just bored off his ass smiling at people and posing for pictures, and he’s too distracted to be doing it all that well.  He’d tried to beg off, but Herc had declared him a photogenic little fucker, so he puts in his time with everybody else. 

Except for Chuck.

The Other Official Australian War Hero had managed to avoid the grand tour so far by having a seizure the week before the whole thing kicked off.  He’d come back from Pitfall with a fractured skull, among other things, and although he’d been shaky and easily fatigued in the months since, he hadn’t suffered anything as serious as a seizure before.  Although he didn’t appear to have any lasting effects, Medical had grabbed hold of him and refused to let him go anywhere while they poked at his brain.  There’d been a little fluid built up near the fracture, but that was relatively easily taken care of, and eventually they had no reasons left to hold onto him. 

Chuck had been cleared for travel and supposedly packed off for Seoul with a laundry list of things not to do, but Raleigh hadn’t seen him yet, and there’d been no word so far.

The irony of him fretting over the absence of Chuck “Drop you like a sack of kaiju shit” Hansen does not escape him. 

He is frowning a little, trying to understand the woman in front of him, who apparently learned her otherwise good English in New York and speaks a mile a minute, when his attention is caught by a surge of people at the doors.

And there he is, just walking inside and surveying the room like it’s his domain.  In that suit, with his trademark smirk, Chuck Hansen truly looks like he owns the place. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Raleigh mutters, and Mako smirks at him discreetly before turning back to the middle-aged banker who can’t seem to decide if he’s flirting with her or not. 

Chuck in a suit is like… some kind of porn.  He’s all sleek lines and subtle textures, expensive fabric fitting over his muscles and teasing at the form beneath.  His hair’s a little wild, but it’s perfect, and when he grins at Raleigh from across the room, it’s like staring into the goddamned sun. 

Three motherfucking long-ass months.

As the younger Hansen makes his way across the room, being surprisingly graceful to everyone he meets because he knows exactly what the delay is doing to Raleigh, Herc throws his arm around Raleigh’s neck and pulls him close just a little bit rougher than necessary.

 “Now, either you and that wanker over there control yourselves, or we’re going to have words, you and I,” Herc says almost conversationally, smiling with complete insincerity for a pair of cameramen trying to take advantage of the moment.  “Think with the big heads, not the little heads, yeah?”

 “Whatever you say, sir,” Raleigh grins a bit painfully as the flashes go off.

“Alright, then,” Herc says, letting go just to usher himoff with a slap on the back that’s a little too hard to be strictly friendly. 

Scary bastard.

Raleigh goes to meet Chuck midway. 

He hasn’t seen Chuck in three months, except almost every night over the phone.  They have the worst goddamned timing in the world, falling in whatever this is between them right before Chuck’s surgery and the world tour from hell, and Raleigh hadn’t even been sure Chuck would be here tonight.

He can feel Herc’s eyes boring into the back of his skull.  He can do this.  He can be casual.  It’s all okay.  He’s in control here.

So of course, the very second he’s in range, Chuck gets in his face, seriously invading his personal space, and things just kind of happen.

Because the jerk even smells good.  Really damned good.

And he’s missed him.

A lot. 

The photographers go _insane_.

The pictures will be everywhere within the hour:  Rangers Becket and Hansen, engaged in what might be reasonably concluded to be either an extremely passionate kiss or some kind of violent assault, depending on the media source and the viewer. 

In a perfect world, love would have triumphed over all, and one of them, probably Chuck, to be honest, would have swept the other up in a bridal carry and marched out of the room to the sound of applause and a symphonic metal version Pachelbel’s _Canon_.

In their world, Marshal Hansen is so supremely unamused that he makes them both stay for the reception and volunteers them for extra solo interviews later that night.  Chuck mouths something at his dad as he is dragged off by a fierce Indonesian film crew, but no one can quite catch it.  They are the only Australians in the room, after all, and had drifted for so long that they don’t even need to finish most words, let alone sentences.

Herc just smiles, entirely unrepentant. 

Chuck doesn’t get back to his room before midnight.

Fortunately, Raleigh is waiting for him.

*******

The room is ridiculously luxurious, and everything seems to gleam somehow:  the gold fixtures, the silky sheen of fine fabrics, the lights of the city outside the windows.  It’s the kind of place that presidents and rock stars take for granted, and common people aspire to.

If Chuck notices at all, he doesn’t care.

Chuck understands that it’s been just three months since they’ve seen each other in the flesh, but it might as well have been thirty, for all he knows.  Chuck is _starving_ ; he had been surviving on video chat, selfies, and Raleigh’s filthy, imaginative uses for social media.  They haven’t known each for very long, and this thing between them is even newer than that, and it _burns_. 

He doesn’t know how Raleigh got into his room, nor does he particularly care.  Raleigh must have been here for a while, because he’s taken a shower and is currently toweling his hair off, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist while he watches some terrifying Korean game show on the telly. 

“Hey,” he says, turning and smiling at Chuck, and that’s all it takes, really.

There have been any number of niceties skipped so far in their relationship, and that apparently isn’t going to change tonight. 

Chuck grabs hold of Raleigh’s head, sliding the fingers of both hands into his hair, and kisses him.  Kisses him ferociously, not letting him move, not allowing him to do anything but respond to him.  Raleigh goes with it, pressing close and letting Chuck have whatever he wants, because Raleigh wants it too.

When they break, they rest their foreheads against each other’s, and Chuck reaches a hand to work the towel free, dropping it where they stand.  Without any prelude, he gently cups and then fondles Raleigh’s balls.  Raleigh just laughs, his pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed. 

“You need to get naked, Hansen,” he says, getting rid of Chuck’s tie in a whir of expensive fabric.  His jacket’s gone in a few moments too, the process hindered by Chuck’s reluctance to take his hands off Raleigh’s body.  With surprising dexterity, however, Raleigh was already unbuttoning his shirt, moving down the small buttons unreasonably fast.

Chuck’s wearing another shirt underneath, of course: a soft t-shirt that Raleigh can’t keep his hands off of, smoothing it across the muscles of Chuck’s chest and shoulders. 

“That’s….” Raleigh manages to murmur before Chuck shuts him up, first with his mouth, and then by throwing him on the bed.  Raleigh lands in a sprawl of long, muscular limbs and Chuck has still barely gotten to touch ANY of that, so he does the only reasonable thing by shucking his pants and leaping on him like a wild man.

Because, seriously, he’s a young, healthy male, he’s saved the goddamned world, and he wants Raleigh Becket like no one else he’s ever met.

Raleigh laughs and grabs him by the back of the neck, rolling him underneath and rubbing every single inch of their bodies together.

“ _Fuck_ , you feel good,” Raleigh groans, sliding his hands down to grab Chuck’s ass and pull them tighter together.  “Gonna make you feel even better.”

Chuck bites him, mostly to smother the embarrassing moan that Raleigh’s voice pulls out of him.  He’s never heard it so low and so rough, and it drills right into him, making him want to spread himself out and give him anything he wants.

 Instead, he slaps his ass and grinds up against him.  “What’d you have in mind?”

“Thought I’d ride you hard and put you away wet,” Raleigh says with a grin, and even though Chuck’s not 100% sure what the hell that means, it’s close enough to the beginning of a porno for him to work with.  Besides, Raleigh sits up and stretches his torso out, still straddling him, and whatever Raleigh was doing before he came back to the jaegers, it left him ripped, and Chuck reaches up to thumb at his nipples. 

 “So let’s fuck,” he says, and sits up to kiss all the breath out of him.

He runs his hand over Raleigh’s cock, rubbing his palm across the top and trailing fingers up the shaft.  Raleigh smiles and hums, pushing into Chuck’s hand.  He shifts back so he can get his hand on Chuck’s dick, and presses the two together. 

“You sure you still want that?” Chuck asks, trying not to make unmanly whining noises at the feel of Raleigh handling him.

They’d talked about it, over video link, in the same way that they’d talked about every other goddamned thing in the world over the last couple of months, the distance making it easier somehow to say anything and everything. 

Whatever this was between them, they hadn’t actually made it to full nakedness before being interrupted by Chuck’s medical problems.  What they’d had was two spectacular make-out sessions and the giddy joy of losing their minds over each other without much warning.

In fact, Chuck was online with him the night after his surgery.  Herc had caught them talking with each other well after midnight and shut it down, but it had been as futile as it would have been if they were still teenagers.

Of course they’d gotten around to talking about sex.  What they’d done, what they liked, what they intended to do to each other as soon as they got a chance.

Chuck wanted to fuck him, wanted to slide in slow and push deep, wanted Raleigh to feel him for days. 

Raleigh had been totally onboard with that idea, and having Chuck in hand now isn’t doing a goddamned thing to change his mind.

“Hell yeah I want your dick.  Thought we’d established that, Chaaaaarlie,” Raleigh says, smirking down at him.

Chuck scowls at him, but his heart isn’t really in it, not with his dick getting petted like that.

“Thought I told you not to call me that,” he says. 

“Quit your bitching and get on with it then.”

Chuck feels that maybe a little bit more bitching is probably called for, but then Raleigh smiles at him, and it’s game over. 

Because he knows about the power of his own dimples; he’s had them cooed over more than enough times since he was legal.  He’s used them ruthlessly in the past to get what he wants from the people who aren’t immune to them yet, which fortunately includes most of the world. 

That doesn’t mean he’s got any resistance to Raleigh’s. 

At all.

The only thing that Chuck’s a virgin to tonight is Raleigh.  He’s a hot young jaeger pilot, after all.  He’d had to wait until he was legal, to avoid Herc killing people, but he’d put the three years since then to use.  Maybe not good use, but at least he knows what he’s about now. 

Raleigh also knows what he’s doing, and between the two of them, he’s ready to go surprisingly quickly, especially for a man who hasn’t been getting any for a very long time.  Chuck suspects it’s because Raleigh had his own quality time in the shower earlier, but he’s not questioning it.  Not when he’s got the man in question under him and is watching as he runs a slippery hand over Chuck’s cock, making him slick and glistening and ready. 

Raleigh pulls him down for a long, obscene kiss, licking his way in to Chuck’s mouth and playing with his tongue.  It’s perfect, except that Raleigh’s legs have locked around his waist, not letting his dick even close to the Promised Land.  Chuck struggles, but Raleigh won’t let him break the kiss, either, winding impossibly strong limbs around him and keeping his ginger lover exactly where he wants him. 

After a few moments of this, Chuck bites him again, and Raleigh pulls his mouth free to laugh.

“You confused about how this ‘getting dicked’ thing works?” Chuck grumbles, trying to get free. 

“Nope,” Raleigh says, and then his body twists and Chuck is suddenly on his back, looking at the ceiling and the incredibly smug bastard between him and it.  He has things to say about that, really important and detailed opinions that he’d like to share, but Raleigh shifts and takes hold of his cock, and drives Chuck Hansen out of his mind.

And really, that’s it.  One second he’s frustrated and almost outraged, really, and in the next, his cock is someplace hot and tight, and he’s got his arms full of horny pilot.  How could a man be expected to stay sane through that? 

Raleigh kisses his neck and bites him and pinches his nipples, but he doesn’t move his hips until Chuck grabs them and thrusts up into Valhalla.  He knows his mind is still gone because he keeps thinking of Raleigh’s ass as Heaven, and he doesn’t care, because Raleigh relents and starts moving, leaning back to take him deep.

Chuck sits up part way and flails around to find pillows for him to pile up behind his head. 

“You think… you think you’re gonna sleep through this?” Raleigh asks, his glower spoiled by the obvious pleasure he takes from rising up until he’s almost free of Chuck and then sinking all the way back down.

“Wanna see you taking my dick,” Chuck mumbles, eyes fixed where their bodies are joined. 

Raleigh smirks and obliges him, thighs flexing as he lifts himself up and pistons down again.  Chuck watches as his glistening cock slides through the ring of Raleigh’s stretched hole, and it’s easily the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life.  Insanely hot.  Unreasonably hot.  He needs to see it a thousand more times. 

“You’re fucking perfect,” Chuck hisses, and Raleigh agrees with him. 

“You’re right,” Raleigh says, bending down to kiss him, and it’s messy and it, too, is perfect.

They move together like they’ve done this a hundred times, and Raleigh is gold on top of him, muscles moving under skin bright with sweat, and he wants to flip the man over and give it to him as hard as he can, but the most he can manage is to roll his hips and stare up at the man with helpless adoration. 

Raleigh disagrees.  He bends forward, slowing down just long enough to whisper the words “Jack me, you lazy bastard” against Chuck’s lips.  The latter laughs breathlessly, but he takes hold and starts stroking, watching the fat head disappear over and over into his fist.

“You’re gonna kill me,” Raleigh gasps, and he watches the flush on Chuck’s cheeks creep down his neck.  Did he have a thing for gingers before?  He doesn’t think he did, but, God, it’s gingers for life from now on.  _Chuck_ for life, if he gets the chance, to be honest.   And that particular thought surprises him into coming, driving down hard and bursting thickly over Chuck’s fist.  Chuck gapes at him almost comically before grabbing hold of his hips and thrusting two times, three—and coming hard inside him.

They stare down at each other, panting, as if astonished at what they’ve done.  Maybe they are.  It feels like they’ve been talking about this for years, and here they are, flesh to flesh, sticky and sweaty and a little bit sore, maybe, but together. 

Raleigh has a sudden, horrible feeling that he might be in love.

Chuck is wearing the smuggest grin yet achieved by human kind.

Raleigh pulls up and off, and sort of flops over on his side in a way which should not be either graceful or sexy, yet somehow manages both.  He’s slick between his thighs already, but he doesn’t mind.  He also doesn’t mind the grumbling when he snuggles up to his new lover.

“Oi, those’re my ribs you’re crushing.” 

“Shut up.”

“Mouthy bastard.” 

“You have _no_ idea,” Raleigh purrs against him, leaving Chuck to contemplate that thought in silence.  The Australian blinks several times at the ceiling.

In the background, a woman on the tv is screaming in a language neither of them understands.  It might be joy, or perhaps something is bursting out of her chest.  Hard to tell without looking.

They bask in the warmth and the feel of skin pressing against skin.  Traditionally, this would be a prime opportunity to whisper sweet nothings, or to make confessions of tender feelings. 

Neither of those things happens. 

Instead, Raleigh begins kissing Chuck’s neck, very softly at first.

After about five minutes of that, Chuck rolls over on him and suggests that Raleigh show him exactly how mouthy he really is.  Raleigh feigns a lack of interest.  The wrestling match which follows conforms to none of the recognized principles of sportsmanship, but it does involve a great deal of rubbing up against each other and general manhandling.   It also eventually leads to them falling off the bed, but since they manage to drag all the bedding with them, neither really minds.

It’s a damned good first night together.

******* 

In the morning, Herc has to get the hotel staff to unlock Chuck’s door because the two assholes inside are either dead or passed out, and they haven’t answered either phones or vigorously beaten-upon doors.  He knows precisely what he’s going to run into, having lived in Chuck’s head enough, and so he brings Mako with him, with orders to disable anyone with a camera who turns up to see what’s going on.

The door opens and he slips in, shutting it firmly behind him.  He saw a flash go off, but a second later there’s a squawk and a thud, and he knows Mako has made the photographer sorry for it.

Herc surveys the scene before him.  Fortunately for his delicate sensibilities, sheets are covering most of the bits he’d really rather not confront at this time of the morning.

Both of his boys, and he’ll call them that if he damned well feels like it, are in a pile on the floor, tangled up in all the bedclothes and each other.  Chuck has someone’s tie knotted loosely around his neck, like Raleigh gagged him at some point in the proceedings, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him now.  The two of them look right and easy together, and his heart swells a little watching them.

 _Good for you, Chuck_ , he thinks.  _Good for you._

It’s with a smile on his lips and a fondness in his heart that Herc Hansen sets about doing his level best to give them the wake-up call from Hell.

It’s another glorious day in the PPDC.

 


End file.
